


How The Tables Have Turned, Mr. Fell

by IHidMyFaceFromYouNoMore



Series: Miss Ashtoreth & Mr. Fell Have a Torrid Affair [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (no actual people are being cheated on in the fic’s reality), Although He Also Doesn't, Aziraphale as a Handsome Stranger, Aziraphale has to be way more Top-ish than usual, Crowley as Nanny Ashtoreth, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Fantasies of Infidelity, Fantasy, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Judge for Yourself, More Clothing Is Ruined in This Fic Too, Oral, PWP, Partially Clothed Sex, Roleplay, Semi-Public Sexual Act, Sort of a Dom Situation, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, although not really, blowjob, but with a twist!, female!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 12:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IHidMyFaceFromYouNoMore/pseuds/IHidMyFaceFromYouNoMore
Summary: Mr. Fell and Miss Ashtoreth have another special evening together.





	How The Tables Have Turned, Mr. Fell

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't, please read the previous work in this series for context, though I think you'd figure it out along the way anyhow, it's not a lot of context needed.
> 
> I am so overwhelmed by the wonderful responses on my original work in this series, I'd like to sincerely thank everyone for voicing your support, you truly make my days happier and made me want to write more. And though I didn’t think I'd continue with any other fics in the same vein as that one, I got the creative juices back and here it is ! Enjoy.

Nanny Ashtoreth was pushing the pram around the garden for a change, though she was surreptitiously checking her phone meanwhile. She saw she had a missed call from Aziraphale. She changed route. 

Brother Francis was tending to some tulips when he spotted her advancing toward him. Mrs. Ashtoreth parked the pram a small distance away, fixing the blanket of the Antichrist, before walking up to Aziraphale, asking what he wanted to talk about. 

“It’s not a life-or-death thing, sorry if I alarmed you,” Aziraphale said, flustered, amusing Crowley. “I had an idea for something to do, is all.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Mr. Fell was wondering if he could take Mrs. Ashtoreth out tonight. For dinner.” 

Crowley smiled deviously. “Oh, that’s — I think she would be thrilled.” 

“He’ll pick her up at nine. Her husband should be out of town then.” 

Crowley rounded off the conversation, returning to the pram so she could walk circles around the garden with the Destroyer of Worlds sleeping soundly while her mind ran in circles thinking of what Aziraphale could be up to. 

\- 

Crowley had been sitting in the armchair of the cottage, bouncing her leg for hours in anticipation. _Bastard knows that I’m off at five on _ _ Thursdays__, __so he forces me to wait ages. Nice move, __Aziraphale__. _

The knock at the door took Crowley out of it, she leapt for the knob. 

“Mr. Fell —” 

“Miss Ashtoreth.”_ Oh, and you remember from last time, nice touch. _

“Do come in, I was just getting ready.” Crowley stepped aside, acting as demure as ever despite last week’s act. 

As he entered, she read Aziraphale’s costume for the evening; a little more formal from last time, his shirt done all the way up and a long jacket that would be too modern for Aziraphale but just perfect for Mr. Fell. It was so curious seeing Aziraphale in anything that approached contemporary fashion as of late, and that jacket was doing a lot of heavy lifting for his character’s style. It was equally curious to see Aziraphale resist the constant temptation of tartan, as he wasn’t wearing a single square inch of tartan on him for once. That was how Crowley knew Aziraphale had decided what kind of man Mr. Fell was going to be. 

Aziraphale turned to look at the anxious Miss Ashtoreth. “What’s on your mind? You seem tense.” 

She made a pained sigh, “I don’t know what to tell Francis when he asks where I’ve been. I think he _suspects _— he kept asking me what I was doing when I was alone last week. What’ll I tell him now?” 

He approached her, closing in on her fidgeting hands once again. He held them all too gently for the rogue he was. “You’re going to book club. Or out with friends. The zoo. Just whatever he’ll find believable.” She broke into a smile. He leaned in for a chaste kiss on her cheek. “I don’t think he suspects. We've been so careful already.” 

She now could breathe a sigh of relief. “You’re right. You're right.” She looked away and back to his warm eyes. “... Where are you taking me?” 

He let her hands slip away again. “A little place downtown. Somewhere I suspect your friends don’t frequent. Are you ready?” 

“I’ll be a minute — my hair needs a do-over.” She went to her dressing table, taking the clasp in her hair out, messing it about. 

The atmosphere changed as Aziraphale stepped behind her, watching her through the mirror. She gradually stopped pinning her hair back as he remained directly behind her. 

He combed a hand through her locks. “Would you do something for me?” 

“Yes.” She didn’t doubt that she wanted to. 

And that was when Aziraphale leaned in close to her ear, whispering, “I want you to braid your hair for later, for when I'll be pulling it.” 

The shiver that went down Crowley’s entire being marked the beginning of an interesting evening. “Yes. I’d like that.” 

\- 

The restaurant was quaint, dimmed lights and discreet décor. Crowley barely remembered what she had ordered, she was so distracted by Aziraphale not breaking character for even a second. They didn’t make small-talk or personal talk, but he’d whisper to her the things he wished he could do with her right there. She nearly bent a spoon in half once the evening was over. 

Aziraphale had been very deliberate in his planning of this, it turned out, as Crowley realized why they had a table in a corner in which they sat beside each other. Crowley had been trying to cross her legs out of decency, but she somehow managed to break every time. It became impossible when Aziraphale’s hand sneaked under the table cloth to rest on her knee. But it didn’t just rest there, he maddeningly slowly ascended to her thigh. Crowley was wearing three layers of skirts, and yet it still felt as though his hand was burning a mark into her skin. Her legs parted further, but there was no hope for release yet, he didn’t go further up. 

Crowley practically begged him to skip dessert. Aziraphale almost denied her, but gave in after he’d reminded himself of the promise he had made to her; he smoothed a hand over her braid, not tugging on it, but promising to. Every time he had looked at her that evening, he’d gotten excited at the prospect of fulfilling that promise. He couldn’t wait any longer either. 

In the cab-ride home to the cottage, Crowley got her revenge by ‘resting’ her hand on his inner thigh for the duration. If there were bumps in the road, well, that’d just be a bonus. Her pinky slid up to briefly feel along the zipper, trying to subtly feel up his concealed erection. Aziraphale made some tense breaths. The newfound confidence of Miss Ashtoreth was really doing it for him, it turned out. They were almost there. 

\- 

Aziraphale shut the cottage door behind them, turning, about to get a word out, but was pressed against the door. Miss Ashtoreth had a wild look in her eyes. Her hands held his shoulders back, coming up to rest at the base of his neck. Though she didn’t use any pressure after a moment, Aziraphale was spell-bound to his spot. 

“Won’t you tell me what you’d like this time?” She did press herself to his still-clothed erection, making Aziraphale straighten up more. 

“You — Miss Ashtoreth... I’d —” Aziraphale had to clear his throat, “You can start where-ever you’d like.” 

She slotted her lips against his, her chest to his, one of her hands moving down his shirt-front after undoing the top button. The other hand slipped his jacket halfway off, Aziraphale helped shrug the other half away. She was holding his cock through his trousers, experimentally feeling him through the fabric before undoing that button as well, then the hot zipper. He slipped out with her help, giving her the perfect opportunity to grip him, she wasted no time. 

Aziraphale was finally slipping out of character but slipped back in as he reached around to grip Crowley as well, pulling her back by her braid in one fast motion. She cried out in surprise, her teeth bared for a vicious second. Crowley let go, Aziraphale followed. She instead tried unbuttoning his shirt again, this time all the way, which he let her do, but no more. 

He backed her onto the bed. Crowley went willingly, lying down at the edge to lift her legs up, her boots taunting Aziraphale yet again. He unlaced them, throwing them to the side, then let her feet rest on his shoulders as he caressed them. With the positioning, Crowley’s skirts slid off her stockinged legs by way of gravity, revealing to Aziraphale that the garter belt had been abandoned for more modern means. 

“Pantyhose?” He couldn’t feel the lace edge he expected when his hand went over her thigh. 

“Don’t take them off.” Crowley’s voice was hoarse, needing. Aziraphale's hand was trailing so close, just a bit more — 

Aziraphale finally noticed as his fingers felt only the thin stocking fabric between him and Crowley’s lips. The mesh was transferring her wetness to his fingers almost as if there was no barrier at all, and Crowley had been desperate for hours, the fabric was only a taste of how wet she was inside. Aziraphale’s cock reacted with a hard twitch at the discovery, he looked at her with genuine surprise, mouth slightly agape. Crowley smiled at him wickedly. 

Aziraphale went back to what he was supposed to be doing, feeling up Crowley’s cunt, rubbing his fingers over her, spreading her lips through the fabric so he could feel her clit properly under his finger. Crowley's breathing became heavier once he pushed at the mesh to slip inside her, though unsuccessfully as Aziraphale decided on doing something else. He guided his cock to her, pushing over her lips with his head, using his hand as a roof over them to slide over her cunt, surprising Crowley this time. 

He was indecisive, however, as he soon let go to untangle Crowley’s legs from his shoulders, folding her to the side so he could bring her to her hands and knees. He pushed her skirts aside again, his hand between her thighs again, rubbing her again. His other hand could reach her braid this time, yanking her back with another cry as he rubbed his cock against her clit feverishly. Crowley's hands resorted to nearly ripping the counterpane when he let go of her hair for a moment to grip at and tear a slit in her pantyhose, making a dangerous sound that thrilled Crowley. 

With a shaking hand, Aziraphale directed his cock to her lips again, the other hand taking a hold of her hair once more. The familiar shudder went over them as he slid inside, while his wet fingers went back to rubbing her freed clit to drive Crowley up the wall. She was louder this time, though she muffled her whimpers in the bedspread. This wouldn’t do, Aziraphale decided to pull her all the way up to him, leaving his hand to roam over her still-clothed breasts to hold her close. 

Crowley felt his hand burning its mark into her the same way it had at dinner, though this time it was the maddening sensation of Aziraphale feeling through her blouse, through her chemise, through her bra, all the way through to her nipple somehow, burning into her. She used her hand to caress over his, encouraging him to stay, the other hand reached behind her to take a fistful of his hair as playful revenge. 

All tangled up in this position, Aziraphale did his finest job at thrusting into her, though the angle was not ideal for speed. He didn’t need to wrestle with Crowley to have her let go so he could get properly onto the bed. Aziraphale intended to get Crowley on her back, but she wasn’t having it. He was pressed to the mattress before he could think it over, with Crowley straddling his cock, making him cry out in surprise now. 

“Miss Ashtoreth — you, _ahhh_ —” She started up a rough pace, fucking herself onto him, squeezing down on him and draining Aziraphale of coherent thought. He resorted to gripping her thighs for an illusion of control as she took him. 

“Never had a woman ride you, Mr. Fell?” Crowley hissed through her teeth at him. 

As flustered as Aziraphale was, he did manage a response after some panting, “Never like this, oh — you’re —” her cunt gripped around him again, the muscles forming an aggravating clench all around Aziraphale. “Magnificent. Miss Ashtoreth! God, please,” he teetered on the edge, Aziraphale tightened all over. 

But then Crowley stopped, her hips had gone still on her descend while she felt through her layers to find her clit to rub. “Wouldn’t want to stop it all just yet, do we?” 

Aziraphale accepted this, though with a pained exhale. She still shuddered around him as she rubbed her clit fast while his cock stayed inside her, still hard and not going anywhere. 

“You want me to help you come, Miss Ashtoreth?” Though he couldn’t move, Aziraphale twitched helplessly inside her. 

“Hold on — ah, yes, yes,” She showed him mercy, lifting her hips enough to let him thrust upward. 

Now it made sense for Aziraphale to grip her hips as he steadily fucked her, though the bliss was ephemeral for now as Crowley’s breathing and rubbing quickened. 

“Azir — _ Mr. Fell_, I — I’m —” She bent over in a cry of emotion, though the precise emotion was a mystery, as Crowley came with her trembling thighs practically around Aziraphale. 

She stopped him from continuing fucking her, slipping him out to do something else. Crowley took him by the legs, dragging Aziraphale off the bed to get him to stand so she could kneel before him. Her mouth was immediately on his wet cock, taking him in. Aziraphale’s hand flew up to take her hair again as he nearly bent over with a moan. 

With each time she slid back, Aziraphale tugged at her braid to keep pace and get a vibrating whimper out of her. He soon thrusted instead, being met with his orgasm in a rush. Crowley’s lips practically kissed his base as he came into her, his grip around her braid excruciating, she swallowed him down. 

Bent over her, Aziraphale weakly pulled out, straightening up so he could plop backwards onto the bed. Crowley marveled at the red lipstick left not only on Aziraphale’s mouth, but on his glistening cock, visible even in the low light. He reached up to undo her buttons at last, helping her out of everything but the black slip Crowley wore underneath it all. 

She tugged at the still-tied ribbon holding her braid together, loosening it. The braid itself had taken a bit of a pounding, hairs stuck out everywhere on it. There was no mending it, so Crowley thought it best to dissolve it. “How the tables have turned, Mr. Fell...” She said at him while finger-combing her locks. 

Aziraphale was amused by this, shooting her a grin. “I take it you enjoyed a bit of role-reversal?” 

“Oh, I did. But you know I like your own rogue-ish ways. Especially that line you whipped out in the beginning, ‘I want you to braid your hair for when I’ll be pulling it later’?” Crowley made an exaggerated sigh of arousal. “My whole body felt like applesauce. Made me gooey inside.” 

He laughed. “Stop, Crowley, that’s mildly disgusting.” 

“And I’m surprised no-one caught your little stunt at the restaurant. Nice pick, by the way, beautiful place.” She laid down on her elbows beside him. 

“I’m more surprised by Miss Ashtoreth’s character development. She's really... coming out of her shell. Is she going to end up being the real rogue all along?” Aziraphale shimmied out of his trousers and dress-shoes at last. 

“Yeah, well, don’t expect there to be a part three.” 

Aziraphale looked at Crowley as if he had done something wrong and was asking for angelic forgiveness with his eyes. 

She tsk’ed. “No, I kid, of course there’s going to be more parts, angel. And I guess, like — like if you liked _that_, otherwise I could dial it back.” 

“No, no, don’t. Keep it — keep going. If you want.” Aziraphale looked at Crowley guiltily. 

Crowley picked up on it. She raised an eyebrow. “You like it when she gets a bit more — rogue-ish, with you?” 

Aziraphale made a face and nodded in a way he thought was nonchalant, but which definitely wasn’t. Truth was that Aziraphale just wanted Crowley at the end of the day, when all was said and done, nevermind how rogue-ish she’d have to be for his pleasure. 

Crowley grinned, oblivious. “You’ve always had a thing for the New Woman, haven’t you? A naughty nanny to strip your conscience away.” 

“Okay, alright, enough scrutinizing me.” Aziraphale frowned, still guilty-looking. Crowley kissed the expression away. 

**Author's Note:**

> The wolves inside me are very much at peace now. Let's see if it lasts.
> 
> And: leave a comment if you feel like it ! I love a comment with all my heart.


End file.
